No way to sugar coat it

There are two things I hate more than anything.  Number One:  DO NOT yell at me or raise your voice at me in a public place.  If you have a problem, there are other ways to communicate it.  Specifically, there are other places to communicate it.  Number Two:  I HATE looking like a fool.  I guess one and two both kind of correspond.  I think the bottom line is I don't like to be humiliated or disrespected.  Of course, who does?  Ordinarily, number one is something that I constantly bitch at my husband about.  He is short fused and tends to find the most inappropriate times to say the most inappropriate things.  I think I first remember this type of instance happening when I was young.  My dad would raise his voice at my mom or me or my sisters in public.  It embarrassed me,regardless of who the subject of the tongue lashing was.  I see it as the most inexcusable form of humiliation.  However, a close second is number two.  Number two happens when you expect a certain outcome- maybe because its been told to you what to expect or maybe because its the logical outcome of a situation- and BANG you find out (either by accident or by direct contact) that the outcome is wrong.  Thus, you (I) am the fool.  I know number two seems confusing.  But really, its not.  Truthfully, number two has to do with trusting someone and then realizing that there is a level of deceit or even blatant lieing.  With number two- the same thing happens to me as with number one... I'm embarrassed and I feel stupid.  In both instances, I have a hard time recovering from someone I care about doing this to me.  I find it interesting that in both cases also, it is typically someone that proclaims or implies some type of mutual care/relationship.  Maybe I'm just babbling.  Truth is... I was hurt today.  It doesn't take much these days... but regardless, it makes those walls of mine just a little higher and my heart just a little more jaded.

I ran to try and clear my head of the above.  It didn't work.  So, I biked.  It didn't work either.  I'm hoping venting will.  And now, I'm just sore from 7 miles of abuse to my body and ready to climb into bed at 7pm.  Healthy, I know.